Escape
by Angel Tsuiraku
Summary: A who-done-it?-fic where everyone gathers at a nightclub in London. There, people are being killed one by one, and the worst part is they're locked in.


**__**

Author's Notes: I've returned with a murder fic that I hope you all enjoy! It's set when everyone's about 20, and its supposed to be rather moody but funny as well. Hope you like it! Don't mind the OC's…just needed some more people is all. PLEASE REVIEW! I'd love to hear your opinion!

Disclaimer: GUNDAM WING is NOT MINE, it's owned by several others and I had nothing to do with it's creation. I'm not asking for or receiving any money, this is for pure enjoyment. I know that's a big shocker, but…hey, it's a murder fic, it's supposed to be a little shocking. Hope you have fun reading this!

[ E s c a p e ]

__

A.c. 2.o.0.

N.o.V.e.M.b.E.r. 2.o.T.h.

L.o.N.d.O.n., E.n.G.l.A.n.D.

Trowa Barton glanced over his shoulder and then slipped through the door, pulling his dark gray overcoat tight around his slender form. It was raining, a heavy, almost slow rain that seemed to drag the whole city down. Grateful for the respite from the London rain, and eager to get to his destination, he turned his green eyes to the receptionist who was calmly waiting behind a desk. The only other thing in the room, besides the door that he'd just come through, was a sole bookcase off to the left. Everything was wood paneled and polished, but simple. To someone who'd never been to the place before, it would seem to lack a point. But Trowa knew otherwise.

"Were you followed?" she asked, and Trowa smirked mentally.

"Never," he replied, and the bookcase swung wide open to reveal a dimly lit passageway constructed of deep red brick. With a nod to the receptionist, Trowa proceeded forward. Electric candles 'burned' and flickered as he made his way down the narrow passage, and he strode forward with smooth confidence, only to be stopped by what appeared to be a dead end. However, nothing was as it seemed in the _Escape_, and he triggered a floor switch that had two wall panels slide easily apart from each other to reveal a sleek, comfortable pub covered in posters, signs, and framed pictures. His green eyes flicked around the room for a moment, seeking, and then he spotted his companions and strode forward without a care. He slid smoothly into the already occupied booth and met the gaze of each member of the party, then did something most people never expected of him. He smiled.

Seated around the booth were his oldest and dearest friends—Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Quatre Raberba Winner, Chang Wufei, Sally Po, Dorothy Catalonia, Relena Peacecraft-Darlain, Cathy, and Hilde. It was the first time since the war that they'd all gathered in the same place, and in the four years they'd been estranged, all of them had changed. Matured. Duo had shot up in height and seemed much more relaxed, Heero was nearly smiling, Wufei had grown taller and stronger, and Quatre had developed a nice build, a squarer jaw, and a more casual outlook on life. Hilde had grown her hair out, Dorothy had hers cut, Relena let hers grow long, Cathy had gone into law school, and Sally remained Wufei's partner and was wearing a skirt. However, they were the same people Trowa knew four years ago, all looking much more relaxed, and in the cases of Quatre, Relena, and Dorothy—much more tan.

"You look good," he told the blonde man. Quatre beamed.

"I just got back from the Caribbean. Didn't find any pirates, though."

Trowa chuckled a bit and they all fell into easy conversation. Even Heero was talking, and once or twice his laugh was heard, deep and pure. It was something Trowa never expected to hear, but it was a true testament to the fact that peace was indeed thriving. After a few drinks, which Quatre selected expertly for everyone else, Duo nudged Heero and gestured to a pretty young waitress not too far away.

"Her name's Aisha," he said, beaming. "She's kinda cute, don't ya think?"

Hilde looked decidedly put out as Duo spoke, and Relena, who was feeling slightly tipsy, patted her friend's wrist.

"Don't worry, Hil," she said, "he's not good enough for you, anyway."

Heero shrugged Duo's hand off of his shoulder but laughed. "The bar tender's prettier."

Quatre let out a burst of surprised laughter that Cathy, Relena, Sally, Duo, and Trowa joined in. "Heero Yuy," the blonde gasped, "I never thought I'd hear you say that. If she's so pretty…why don't you ask her out?" Heero shrugged self-consciously.

"I'd just screw it up." Then he paused. "This place is supposed to have over fifty secret passages…I think I'll go exploring," he added. Everyone nodded and Heero slipped out, not surprised when Relena announced she was going to join him. When they'd disappeared, Duo turned back to everyone else.

"Man, get a load of that. _He's_ sure different, wouldn't you say?"

There were murmurs of agreement, and then Quatre let out a sigh.

"There are a lot of things to discover here…I might go exploring, too. Anyone care to join me?"

Dorothy accepted the offer, and though Quatre seemed slightly uncomfortable at the thought of being alone with her—after all, the last time they'd been face-to-face, she'd stabbed him through the stomach—he gave a courtly bow and offered his arm.

The group had chosen to meet in London's hottest nightclub, _Escape_. _Escape_ was modeled after old safe-houses, designed in days long past to hide spies from enemies. The club was riddled with secret passages, hidden elevators, double-sided mirrors, dead ends, and doors that didn't lead anywhere. There were over a dozen ways out of the club, and it had a disorienting effect if you were tipsy or had traversed too many passages without watching your path. The staff who worked the nightclub treated the customers like gentlemen spies in Scotland Yard, and martinis was the beverage of choice at the bar. Walls would open, stairs would lead to nowhere, the entire place was a maze of odd things to discover, and by consequence, it was the most entertaining bar in the entire city.

One by one the group split off, leaving Wufei and Sally alone at the booth, chatting to another waitress named Lian. Lian was an old acquaintance of Wufei's and Sally was very interested in her. Trowa had led Cathy around and told her about all his doings since he split from the circus, and Duo and Hilde had left for the bar to chat with Heero's pretty barmaid and the waitress Aisha, whom Duo thought was cute.

It wasn't until midnight that all hell broke loose, but there was a flash of white lighting and scream that echoed throughout the club—a hauntingly familiar scream—and when everyone managed to find their way to its source, Dorothy was dead, and Quatre was gaping at the body.

"What the hell happened here?" Duo demanded, and the blonde man sputtered.

"I don't know! We were talking, and then arguing, and then there was this flash of lighting and she screamed, and when I could see again, she'd been stabbed," he said. He backed away quickly, pale beneath the tan he'd so recently acquired. "I…my God, she's really dead."

"Stabbed through the stomach," Heero muttered, kneeling next to Dorothy's body to examine the wound closer. "Looks like with some kind of rapier. Or…a fencing foil."

Everyone glanced at Quatre, who shook his head rapidly. Dorothy had stabbed Quatre with a fencing foil nearly five years earlier, and their relationship hadn't bettered much since.

"I swear I didn't kill her," he said slowly, his bright aquamarine eyes wide in horror and shock. "I swear!"

Duo shook his head slowly. "Then why is there a bloody fencing foil next to your left foot?" he asked grimly, and Quatre glanced down and paled further. That was the moment the real Scotland Yard arrived.

Within moments the two agents in charge—Angel Tsuiraku Kurama and Meilin Tsukishiro—had the entire nightclub sealed off at all of its exits, and they'd swiftly set up surveillance in the room that monitored all of the secret passages. Special forces had surrounded the building, and the two ladies then approached the crime scene.

"Don't touch anything," Meilin warned, and Angel grabbed Quatre's wrist.

"We need to chat, Mr. Winner," she said grimly, and he gulped and nodded. Calmly she escorted him to a seat and locked gazes with him. "Right now you're our primary suspect, Mr. Winner. Several people saw you together, including your friends, and though no one saw the actual murder, you were the only one close enough to stab her like that."

"I didn't kill her," Quatre replied weakly, looking slightly sick. "We'd never really gotten along, but I'd never kill anyone. Not like that, not in cold blood. Believe me, Detective Tsuiraku, I had nothing to do with it."

Angel regarded him for a moment, noting how pale he was. "We'll see if that's true, Mr. Winner."

Meilin was instructing everyone to stay together and had gotten the other police to round up the staff as well, and she and Angel herded the entire group--staff and customers alike--into the much roomier restaurant part of the nightclub. The doors were barred and sealed by other members of the police. Quatre dimly watched the beautiful women organize everyone into table groups, then watched as they split up and systematically began interviewing everyone. He knew it looked bad for him, but at the moment all he could think was, _by sealing ourselves into one room, we're sitting ducks…whoever killed Dorothy will strike again, and we've got no way out._

Because not only was _Escape_ the best place to slip into a pretend world of espionage and intrigue…it was also the best place for a very real murder.


End file.
